The image of Alwen's eyes opening still burned in Liora's mind. She could still feel it like her aunt was watching her, even as the darkness in the chamber settled again. The wind that had exploded moments before was gone, leaving only a soft hum of magic and the damp cold of the stone underground.
Tomas was the first to move. He grabbed Liora's wrist and pulled her back.
"We have to go," he whispered quickly. "Now."
His eyes were wide with fear deeper fear than she had ever seen in him, even in the cellar. Behind them, the air cracked with a sound like breath and bone. Figures moved in the shadows, moaning low, like wind through empty trees. One of them turned its head and sniffed the air. Tomas didn't wait. He pulled her harder, almost dragging her across the stone.
"They're not alive, Liora," he said, choking on the words. "They're remembering us."
But Liora didn't move. She wasn't frozen by fear, she was frozen by recognition. One of the figures tilted its head in a way she knew. The shape of the eyes, the curve of the jaw, it hit something buried deep inside her. It wasn't just a nightmare face. It was someone from her past. Her mother's old friend. The one who vanished when Liora was still a child.
Her lips parted, about to say the name, but Tomas pulled again, harder.
"Liora, please," he begged. "Whatever you see in them it's not them anymore."
But she wasn't sure.
Those weren't Alwen's eyes. They had her shape, her stormy gray color the eyes Liora had stared into as a child but behind them was something wrong. Something old. It didn't look at her with love or memory. It looked at her like it wanted to eat her soul. Whatever warmth Alwen had it was gone. Replaced by something too big and empty to be human. A presence from somewhere else.
Liora's chest tightened. She wanted to look away but couldn't. The eyes held her like a tight string. Part of Alwen was still in there, but something else was inside her too.
They were hers. Not just similar, familiar in a way that scraped at something deep inside Liora. The connection wasn't just family, it was older. Hidden.
Liora," Tomas said again, pulling harder. "Please."
"I saw her die," Liora whispered, her voice trembling like a leaf in the wind. "In the vision I saw her fall." The image was still sharp in her mind Alwen's body collapsing, swallowed by shadow, the scream that never reached her lips. Liora's hands curled into fists at her sides. "It wasn't just a fall. It was like the world rejected her, like something pulled her away from life itself."
"She did fall," came Elandor's voice from behind them, soft and strained. "But not into death. She fell into the Veil. And something reached back."
Liora turned sharply to him, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and anger. "You knew she was still alive," she said, each word cutting through the air like a blade. Her voice trembled, not just with accusation, but with betrayal. All this time, they had searched for answers, walked blindly through danger, and he had known maybe not everything, but enough. "You let me believe she was gone," she added, voice barely above a whisper.
"No," he said, his voice calm but filled with weight. "We knew she was not dead. That's not the same." He looked at Liora, eyes steady, as if trying to make her understand something fragile and dangerous all at once. "There's a difference between life and what she became. We couldn't say she lived not truly. But death didn't claim her either. She remaine caught in between, beyond reach, beyond saving."
"Liora stepped closer to the glass. Her breath fogged its surface. Alwen's eyes were closed again, her face still. But a heartbeat still echoed faintly through the stone, like a soft drum.
"What is the Veil?" she asked.
Elandor paused, choosing his words with care. "A barrier," he said slowly. "Something ancient that lies between our world and what's under it. It's not just space it's a wall, invisible but real, keeping breath and shadow apart. Life on one side, something far older on the other. It wasn't meant to be crossed. And when it is, the cost is never simple. The Veil holds back what should never be known."
"Shadow?"
"Not darkness," he said. "Darkness is just the lack of light. The Veil hides things that have their own light, twisted and wrong."
Tomas looked from one to the other, pale. "You mean like demons?"
Elandor gave a humorless smile. "We don't give it names. Names give power. But yes. Close enough."
Liora's stomach twisted. "And Alwen opened that barrier?"
"She didn't just open it. She became it," Elandor said. "She thought she could hold it back. That her magic would be enough. But no one can hold the Veil alone."
"Then why seal her here?" Tomas asked. "Why keep her?"
Elandor looked at Liora. "Because part of her resisted. She didn't let everything through. She became a gate. And gates must be watched."
Liora touched the glass. The pulse grew faster.
"She's responding to me," she said.
"Yes," Elandor whispered. "Because you are the key."
Tomas cursed softly. "Of course she is."
Liora turned to him. "What does that mean?"
But Elandor didn't reply.
The chamber began to hum again low and deep. Like something sleeping was waking up. Dust floated down from the ceiling. The air shifted metallic and heavy. Liora's skin shivered.
"Something's coming," she said.
Elandor nodded. "We need to get out. Now."
They ran up the stairs, the hum behind them growing like thunder. Tomas didn't let go of her hand. When they reached the top, the council hall was empty and silent. The fire pit still glowed, but no people remained.
Liora turned in a slow circle. "Where is everyone?"
A shadow moved past the window.
Then another.
"They're not gone," Tomas whispered. "They're hiding."
Elandor moved toward the doors but they slammed shut before he could touch them.
"Too late," he said.
Something moved in the corner. Not a person, not anymore.
A creature stepped forward. It looked human but not right. Its limbs were too long, too smooth. Its skin sparkled like wet stone. And its face,Its face had no eyes. Just blank, smooth skin.
But it spoke. "Daughter of the Veil."
Liora's breath caught.
Tomas lifted his lantern but the flame died.
"What is that?" he asked.
"An echo," Elandor said. "A memory from the other side."
The creature came closer, its neck tilting.
"You are opening."
"No," Liora snapped. "I'm not."
"You are waking," it said. "And when you wake, we return."
Tomas pulled her behind him. "How do we fight it?"
"We don't," Elandor said. "We hold it off."
He drew shapes in the air symbols that flared in blue flame and vanished. The creature hissed and stepped back but didn't leave.
It was waiting, watching and not alone.
From the shadows, more figures came. Limping. Crawling. Some walked upright with a strange grace. Their bodies twisted at awful angles. Bones cracked with every step. Their hands dragged behind them fingers long, skin raw, nails black like burned wood. One dragged its face across the floor, leaving a dark smear behind. Another opened its mouth and it split too wide. No tongue. Just writhing shadows inside.
The air turned rotten thick with decay and old blood. And in the silence, they began to whisper. Not words. But memories. Not their own stolen, broken memories.
All of them had the same blank, eyeless face.
Liora trembled. "They've been here before."
"Yes," Elandor said. "Long ago. Before the Veil was sealed."
The creatures circled, slow and careful, like wolves stalking prey.
"What do they want?" Tomas asked.
Liora already knew.
"Me."
The circle tightened.
Then a sound, a chime, clear, Soft, and familiar.
Liora turned and saw her.
Ysolde.
She stood by the doors, one hand raised. Her face pale and thin but alive. Her eyes, once warm and wise, now held something ancient. Veins pulsed under her skin like black ink. She opened her mouth but no words came. Just a breath like wind in a tomb. Shadows twisted behind her. The torchlight bent away from her like it was scared.
Liora's heart skipped.
"Run!" she shouted.
The spell shattered.
Tomas grabbed her hand. They ran. Ysolde threw out her arms symbols spinning around her wrists. Light flared, driving the creatures back.
Outside, vapor wrapped around them. Bitter cold. It clung to them as they ran Liora, Tomas, and Ysolde behind.
They didn't stop until they reached the old watchtower near the forest's edge.
Then Liora turned to her grandmother.
"You're alive."
Ysolde nodded, breathing hard. "Barely."
"Where did you go?"
"I went to the edge of the Veil," she said. "To see if the gate was holding."
"And?"
"It's not."
Liora sank to the floor. "They said I'm the key."
Ysolde looked away. "You are."
Liora stared at her. "What aren't you telling me?"
Ysolde was quiet.
Then she said, "Alwen wasn't the first to touch the Veil. She was chosen because of what lives in her blood. Our blood."
"What lives in it?" Tomas asked softly.
Ysolde looked at Liora.
"A forgotten name."
The wind howled outside. Tomas looked between them, his fists tight.
"And now what?"
"We prepare," Ysolde said. "The Veil is thinning. The echoes are returning and Alwen is done waiting."
Liora pressed her hand to her chest. The ring burned.
Not hot. Alive.
And in the distance, the night cried out with something that was no longer human.